Chapter Text
Phil Coulson died on May 4th of 2012.
Nine days later, he was brought back to life with a head full of false memories and a sense that there was something wrong with him. The visions of the fabricated tropical paradise faded when he learned the truth. The dread lingered.
He had cheated death and was living on borrowed time.
Each day after the Battle of New York was a gift and he treated it accordingly, spending every moment of his second life building a better world. Nick Fury and Project TAHITI had given him a chance to be the man he always wanted to be, to have the life and the family he had never dreamed he could have.
But he knew it was temporary.
Coulson had lived in the world for 47 years before his first death. He had seen enough to know that nothing good lasts forever. For nearly five years, the knowledge that his bill would come due was a fear that was never far from his mind. It was like an electric current that ran under his skin, shaping every action and thought, working its way into his nightmares and daydreams.
When the Ghost Rider told him the price he would have to pay to take AIDA down, Coulson did not hesitate. All of the dread and anxiety that had weighted him down since his resurrection was burned away when the Rider left him.
There would be no more wondering about what would finish the job that Loki’s sceptre had started.
It was almost over.
He had enough time to fight one last battle and see that his team would be safe without him. It was more than he had any right to hope for.
After AIDA was gone and they all gathered in the ruins of the base that had been their home, Daisy stood up and stepped into his traditional role as a leader. She convinced Fitz and the rest of the team that whatever faced them in the future, they would fight it together. Coulson grinned with pride as the others voiced their agreement.
He had led them well and would leave them in good hands.
When the time came, they would be alright, secure in the future he had built for them.
He could finally be at peace.
But he was not dead yet.
And the journey to the final rest he craved and feared would be plagued with hurtles he could have never have seen coming. The destruction of the world and the threat of an eternity stuck in an endless loop of time were minor inconveniences in the end. The deepest scars were caused by the people who loved him, and who refused to let him go.